by Lori Ryan
Steadying her nerves, she willed herself to speak in a calm voice. “Why does it matter to you how I dress?”
“Don’t you know how many impressionable girls watch you? Girls who want to be like you?” He leaned closer to her ear, his warm breath brushing her neck, sending chills down her spine. “My girl,” he growled.
Oh, no. “Your daughter?”
“My step daughter,” he said, emphasizing the step part. “She’s got posters of you plastered all over her room. And now she’s a fucking slut, just like you. Went and got herself knocked up.”
He moved his arm, pressing the cold blade of the knife even harder against her skin. The wind around them picked up, whipping her hair.
Please, Grant, she prayed. I need you, please.
“No!” Sophie heard Elle cry from behind them.
The attacker turned at the sound and Sophie moved to wiggle free but his grip tightened, along with the pressure of the blade against her cheek.
“Let her go!” a male voice called from the other direction. Was it Jake? Or Emmett?
Pain shot across Sophie’s cheek as she felt the blade cut across her skin. A warm trickle of blood rolled down her face. Tears welled in her eyes but she willed herself to stay focused, stay calm.
“No!” came a guttural voice behind them.
Grant.
“No!” he yelled again, his one word sounding like a war cry.
The stalker turned them both to face him.
Grant came rushing toward them, hands in the air, his eyes wild with fury.
“Grant, no!” she yelled.
The man raised the knife at him and Grant stopped a few feet away. “Stay the fuck back or I swear I will carve her face up so bad, not even you will recognize her.”
The stalker’s arm gripped her tighter against his chest, pinning her in place.
“Hey, asshole!” A deep voice called from behind them.
The man spun, loosening his grip.
Sophie elbowed him in the stomach and wiggled free from his hold.
“Run!” Grant yelled as he reached for her attacker, launching himself at the man.
The stalker turned back toward Grant, knife flashing high in the air.
“Grant, no!” She rushed toward him, her eyes focused solely on him.
Suddenly the sound of something snapping caught her attention. It wasn’t a branch. The noise sounded like a bone breaking.
The stalker fell to his knees with a cry of agony that echoed through the woods.
She stared down as Emmett pounced on top of the man. It had been Emmett’s voice calling from behind them, distracting the stalker so she could get away.
The stalker was face down in the snow, Emmett on top of him as Aaron and Jake came to hold down his arms and legs.
Sophie’s head spun as she searched the area. “Grant? Where are you?”
He moaned from a few yards away.
She spotted him on his knees, hands pressed to his abdomen. As he pulled them away, she saw the blood. Sophie screamed at the sight.
Grant’s eyes rolled up to meet hers as they glazed over. “Blood,” he whispered.
Before Sophie could reach him, Grant fell to his side, his body laying limp in the snow, eyes closed.
“Grant, oh God, no, Grant!” She raced toward him, praying she wasn’t too late.
Aaron reached his brother first, sitting beside him on the ground.
“Oh, Grant,” she cried out, falling to her knees on the other side. She watched helplessly as Aaron moved with intent, the doctor in him taking over and commanding the situation.
Aaron barked out orders and someone beside them began making phone calls.
Sophie could only watch and pray as everything else around her faded away, her sight solely focused on Grant’s ashen face.
Two weeks ago, she thought she might have to live without him and she hadn’t known if she could do it. Now, the choice might not be her own. And that thought terrified her. She wasn’t ready to lose the man she loved. She wasn’t ready to give up the love they’d found together. It might not be perfect, but it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grant lay on his side, his body trembling as a fresh wave of nausea pounded in his gut. He’d never done well with blood. It was something his special effects teams had a hard time with on set.
Thankfully he couldn’t see his injury, but the memory of blood covering his hands was enough to send his stomach lurching again.
He closed his eyes but opened them when he heard Sophie’s cries of distress. She was hurt. He tried to sit up but a hand pushed him back down. Then, as if from a dream, Sophie was next to him, her hands on his face. Her cheeks were stained with tears.
He tried to speak, to tell her not to cry, but he was feeling woozy and his words came out slurred.
“Shhh,” she murmured, “don’t try to talk.”
Grant turned his head at the sound of a scuffle not far from them.
Jake and Emmett were on top of the asshole who’d hurt Sophie. They had him pinned to the ground. She was safe. His Sophie was safe. Turning back to face her he noticed tears streaming down her face. “No,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
He reached out to touch her and noticed the blood on her cheek where the knife had cut her. Instead of feeling nauseous, he felt rage, red hot anger. He wanted to rip that motherfucker’s head off.
Grant’s gaze scanned Sophie’s body, looking for any other injuries. She appeared to be all right.
Aaron loomed over him, rolling him to his back and applying pressure to his stomach.
“Ow,” he moaned.
“Suck it up, baby,” Aaron said.
Grant looked down at his shirt stained with blood and felt the rush of bile in his throat.
Sophie squeezed his hand and caressed his face. “You’re going to be fine.” She looked up, toward the road. “You hear that? There’s an ambulance on the way.”
His eyes fluttered closed, for how long he didn’t know, but when he opened them again, he noticed flashing lights and a crowd of people surrounding them, holding huge bags. They were EMTs.
“Check Sophie, first,” he rasped out. “She’s hurt.”
She looked pale and shaken. She was strong but even he knew she was struggling to handle this traumatic event. She had to be frightened to the core after that experience, who wouldn’t be.
“Can you sit up?” Aaron asked.
Grant nodded and blinked a few times. A uniformed officer man walked up next to him. He squinted, studying him intently. “Bobby Turner? Is that you?”
The sheriff smiled. “Yeah, it’s me. I’ve changed a little.”
Grant looked the man up and down. He must have been at least six-four and well over two hundred and fifty pounds, all muscle. The Incredible Hulk lookalike standing in front of him was a far cry from the chubby kid Grant remembered.
“Um, yeah, I’d say so.” He laughed but winced from the pain in his mid-section. “You look good.”
“Thanks.” Bobby surveyed Grant from head to toe. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Flesh wound, pussy,” Aaron mumbled in his ear as he lifted the shirt he’d been using for pressure and let the EMTs apply sterile bandages.
“You got pretty lucky out there it sounds like.” Bobby looked over to where two other officers were placing their attacker into a marked vehicle. “Mr. Tindol could have done a lot more damage with that knife.”
Grant didn’t want to think what the man could have done with Sophie if he’d grabbed her farther out in the woods where no one could hear her scream.
“Is that his name?” Sophie asked, staring up at the sheriff, eyes wide.
“Yes. We found I.D. in the rental car he drove a few miles up the road. His name is Edmund Randolph Tindol. Ring any bells?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, but I recognize him as the man who approached me at one of my signings. He got a little ag
gressive. My security staff suspects he was the one who broke into my house in Los Angeles and has been sending me threatening letters.”
The sheriff looked around the field. “Your security guys here with you?”
“No one knew I was still in town. My tour bus went on without me and we’ve kept my location here under wraps.”
Bobby’s jaw was tight, as if he wanted to argue with the logic of that. Grant didn’t blame him. He’d been an idiot for not insisting Sophie have a security team on her at all times.
The public had discovered their location at the lake, so people had to know she was still in town instead of with her tour bus. It wouldn’t have taken much for someone to follow them back to the cabin, from there or any of the other times they’d visited in town.
“We’ve taken him into custody,” Bobby said. “We’ve got to bring him to the hospital before we can process him, but there will be a deputy with him at all times.”
Sophie glanced up at Grant and his world fell away at the love and fear in her eyes. Despite the millings of those around them, all he saw was his Sophie, the woman he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with years ago.
“I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you,” she whispered, sliding her arms around his shoulders.
“Ditto,” he said, kissing her on the nose.
Bobby cleared his throat, bursting the cocoon of isolation around them and bringing Grant’s awareness back to the present.
“Grant, the EMTs are ready to take you to the hospital to be stitched up. I’ll follow and get your statement there. We’ve gotten statements from everyone else.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.” Grant felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. No telling who was calling. News traveled fast in their small town. Bad news traveled even faster. He glanced down at the screen, surprised to see Jackie’s number. He swiped the screen. “Hey, Jackie.”
“Is my sister all right?” Her panicked voice echoed in his ear. “Is she all right, Grant?”
Grant’s gaze drifted down to Sophie. She still had a dried patch of blood on her cheek from where that fucker had sliced her with the knife, but other than that she seemed all right.
“She’s good,” he said. “Physically.”
“Where is she?” Jackie’s fear and worry were palpable.
“She’s right here. Hold on.”
“Grant,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For keeping her safe,” Jackie said, her voice filled with emotion. “I may not have liked you in the beginning but I knew you would always keep her safe.”
“Wow, was that a compliment?”
“Screw you, movie star. Put my sister on.”
Grant chuckled but stopped as the motion made the slice in his gut fire up again. “Here,” he said to Sophie. “It’s Jackie.”
“Hello?” she said, taking the phone and moving to her feet. “Yes, I know, I’m fine.”
Grant watched as she stepped away from the group, hating the fear that ate at him from having her out of his reach.
The EMTs tried to move him to a stretcher but he waved them away. “I can walk.” He raised up on his knees, trying to hide the wince.
Jake snorted.
Emmett rolled his eyes. “He’s not an Academy Award-winning actor for nothing.”
“Come on,” Aaron said, helping him to his feet. “We can follow behind.”
“See you, bro,” Emmett waved.
“Wait” Sophie called out. “I’m riding with him,” she said. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “And you are going in the ambulance. I don’t want any complaints.”
A slow smile spread across his face. It was nice to be cared for, by his wife, he thought. “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a salute.
She laughed and swatted his hand away as the EMTs loaded him into the van.
She settled in across from his stretcher, her eyes never leaving his.
Images of the divorce papers upstairs flashed through his mind. Like it or not, he could still lose her. The thought hurt more than the pain in his gut when he realized keeping Sophie was out of his control.
* * *
Sophie watched as Grant tried to wave off the EMTs, but the pair seemed intent on monitoring his condition the whole way to the hospital. The closest emergency room was twenty minutes away.
Luckily, Sophie had made it back from her conversation with Jackie just in time to ensure Grant went with the medical team. Her sister had gone from yelling at Sophie for not calling her immediately to crying because she thought it was her fault Sophie’s security hadn’t been on hand to stop the attacker.
Sophie and Grant had told Jackie to pull the security back from the cabin, thinking they didn’t need it given their remote location and the thought that no one knew she was still in town. As much as she’d tried to reassure her sister it wasn’t her fault, Jackie still felt responsible.
Jackie had also told Sophie a few things that had shocked the heck out of her. She and Grant had more to talk about than she realized. A lot more.
Grant held out his hand with a tentative smile.
She blinked back tears and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, smiling when he gave her a reassuring grip. Her own heart mimicked the action, squeezing tight in her chest. They had so much they needed to talk about. So much to make up for. So much they’d lost and missed out on, and might not ever be able to get back.
But she knew with all her heart she wanted to try. She wanted it more than anything she ever had.
“I’ll be fine, Soph.”
Her gaze ran over his body, studying every little detail. The technicians had hooked him up to monitors and inserted an IV line should he need any medication. Looking at him now it was hard to reassure herself he would be all right. “I know,” she whispered. It wasn’t the present that had her scared, it was the ‘What could have happened’ that had her stomach tied in knots.
“Hey,” he said, drawing her gaze to his beautiful face. “We’ll be okay.”
She nodded, hoping it was true.
“It doesn’t look too deep,” the technician said, uncovering the gauze covering his wound. “Probably just a few stitches and you’ll be good to go.”
“Uggh,” Grant moaned, his face going ashen.
Sophie studied the bloodied gauze, remembering Grant’s aversion to blood. “Just don’t look down,” she said smiling. “Stare at me.”
“I could stare at you for a lifetime,” he said.
So could I. She thought, afraid to speak out loud, fearing she may totally break down. So could I.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grant listened to the sounds of Sophie in the kitchen. The quiet of the cabin was welcome after the noise of the hospital and the endless questions by the sheriff, and his family.
He lay on the couch, his stomach stiff and a little sore now that the local anesthesia was wearing off. They’d given him a prescription for narcotics but he didn’t want to take them if he could help it. The blade had cut through his skin and gone into the muscles beneath, but nothing deep thankfully.
Sophie entered the room, a glass of juice in one hand and a plate with cut fruit in the other. “You need to eat something so we can get you to bed. The doctor said you should rest.”
Grant grunted as she sat next to him on the couch, placing the items on the coffee table.
“I don’t want to rest. I want to look at you.”
Sophie laughed and shot him a look. “Look at me? I’m a mess.” She glanced down at her sweatpants and T-shirt. With her hair pulled up in a messy bun and her face free of make-up, she probably thought she looked horrible. But this was the Sophie he loved best.
“Yes, look at you,” he said, smiling. “You’re a hot mess.” He his hand over the cheek, his thumb skimming over the small bandage. She leaned into his touch and his heart squeezed in fear of what could have occurred today. “I�
��m so sorry I let this happen, Sophie. I’m so damned sorry.”
Her brows wrinkled and she lifted her head from his touch. “You can’t blame yourself for this. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Of course it was,” he said. “I should never have taken a chance with you by having your security pull back, no matter how safe we thought you were here. There will always be people who want to hurt you. You’re my wife, Soph. I need to protect you, make sure you’re safe.”
She smiled and took one of his hands in hers. “You know you can’t always do that, right?”
He stared down at their hands, thankful he could still touch her soft, creamy skin. Slowly his gaze lifted to meet her bright blue eyes. They were red-rimmed and swollen. “It doesn’t mean I can’t try.”
She nodded to his abdomen. “You certainly did more than try. And you scared the snot out of me too. I can’t believe you lunged for a wild man waving a knife in the air.”
“He had the knife pressed so hard to your face he cut the skin, and would have done worse. What was I supposed to do, stand there and watch?”
They held one another’s gaze for a several moments before Sophie’s head fell into his lap.
He stroked her soft hair.
“I was so scared, Grant,” she said quietly.
“Of course you were.”
She raised her head and stared up at him, her blue eyes wide, blinking back tears. “I was so scared for you, not for me.”
For him? Why?
“He could have killed you,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “When I saw all that blood …”
He sat back, surprised by how upset she was. For him.
“You seriously don’t realize how much you mean to me?” she asked, pulling away.
He held on tight to her hands, not allowing her to move. “Sophie, don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t run away. Please.”
She stared at him, eyes wide as if she might do just that. Dragging in a deep breath, she held it for several seconds before blowing it out with a sigh. “I love you, Grant,” she said matter-of-factly with little emotion.
